Twisted Delirium
by Cerise Rant Ange Colere
Summary: Quatre has lost it. Simple as that. But why? As a red eyed bear is always present as the delusions intangle his mind and he swirls though the madness that pitches him even against the other pilots.
1. Melody

Author Note: The mood is *very* depressing. Oh and Gundam Wing is in no way mine nor  
  
will it ever be unfortunately.   
  
Only You Can Hear the Melody You Dance To   
  
By Cerise Rant  
  
There is a melody that plays quietly in the back of his mind that only he knows. Many  
  
instruments make up this imaginary strain of music. Occasionally in the real word he will  
  
stumble across another's song that has a measure that sounds so much like his own. This other  
  
person's song he will become obsessed with till he hears another measure in another's song.  
  
And so his life moves in revolving repetitions till one day he meet one whose song plays so  
  
much like his own that he is trapped and is completely theirs without the person ever realizing it.  
  
Silently Quatre watched his Trowa's chest rise and fall in his dreamless sleep. He  
  
stoked the others cheek thoughtfully listening to the melody turn sweet and sad before  
  
stumbling on deep dark notes as his thoughts turned to his inner world. He saw his nightmares  
  
even when awake and now the one of Trowa dying slowly in a puddle of cold blood as he  
  
watched played as the music pulsed with unleashed screams as Quatre suddenly jolted himself  
  
back to reality to stare at his living Trowa. He ran his fingers through the feathery soft hair and  
  
smelt the musky scent. His pale hand trembled as he traced the strong jawbone and smooth  
  
lips. Trowa smiled slightly in his sleep making a sound much like a big cat purring before falling  
  
silent again. Quatre smiled and ran his finger down his chest enjoying the silken skins feel.  
  
Split images of broken limbs and dead hearts flashed through his mind and the melody  
  
rumbled pierced with high pitched piping. He shook his head and concentrated on Trowa's  
  
even breathing. Almost asleep he lifted a hand to push back his bangs and the blue veins of his  
  
wrist caught his attention. No scars blemish the smooth, white flesh through which the weaving  
  
veins can be easily seen. No matter how many times he has scratched with his short nails no  
  
mark remains long. The spot itches again but this time he cannot scratch it. His other arm is  
  
pinned under Trowa's head. Trowa who sleeps blissfully unaware of the dark undercurrents  
  
tormenting his pale lover.  
  
Memories of long ago nightmares that left him shaking inside for days and months  
  
without a steady moment. Quatre refuses to allow the images from the nightmares to resurface.  
  
Only the horribly unsteady feeling remains to eat away at the eroded base of his mind.  
  
Try as he may Trowa could never reach deep enough to stop the shaking. Eventually  
  
Quatre had to pretend that all was well inside because he didn't want to see Trowa despair  
  
over his incurable instability.  
  
Quatre flicked back to reality as Trowa moaned slightly in his sleep. His breathing was  
  
no longer slow but slightly rushed. A slow pant and he rolled on his back with his head not on  
  
Quatre's arm but laid on his hand. He curled his fingers in Trowa's hair and felt his lover move  
  
against him.  
  
Smiling slightly Quatre watched Trowa move and moan to his loving dream. He  
  
stroked Trowa's chest and was rewarded with the taller pilot rubbing himself against Quatre.  
  
Leaning over him, Quatre kissed Trowa and let the pilot's tongue ravage his mouth as  
  
he was suddenly pulled under him. Trowa was wide awake now and running his hands down  
  
Quatre's sides. Moving lower and lower pulling away the sheet the Quatre had twisted himself  
  
in somehow.  
  
'No nightmares could ruin this moment,' Quatre thought before groaning as Trowa  
  
grasped him gently. He felt him rub his thumb over the tip and Quatre bit back a loud gasp.  
  
Slipping into bliss suddenly his mind fell the wrong direction and darkness flooded his melody.  
  
Evil hands defiled him ripping and beating his unguarded flesh. He wanted to scream in horror  
  
but his mouth only opened to black cold water and all was a void to his eyes as the viscous  
  
hands continued to violate him. He couldn't struggle and felt the weight of chains on his limbs as  
  
he felt the hands move toward a place only Trowa was allowed to touch. He tried to scream  
  
again and felt a sharp blade held against his throat. Already he could feel hot blood run down  
  
his neck and his chest. He felt hard nails dig at the skin on his chest and drag across its  
  
softness.   
  
He opened his eyes wider and saw the silhouette of a nameless soldier who was  
  
holding the blade to his throat. The vile hands caressed this forbidden place. Suddenly cold  
  
fingers penetrated and he tried to scream again. The blade cut deeper and more blood coursed  
  
over his white flesh. The nameless solider moved himself closer and Quatre couldn't handle it  
  
anymore. He pressed his throat fully against the blade and shuddered as it severed his flesh.  
  
His mind swirled away into softer blackness with nothing but emptiness. Bodiless he  
  
floated there free of all pain and emotion. His melody was silent.  
  
Quatre opened his eyes to see Trowa leaning over him. His skin glistened with sweat  
  
as he wiped the tears from Quatre's cheek. He looked worried as he watched Quatre breathe  
  
unevenly.  
  
So as not to worry him further, Quatre smiled as he reached up and pulled Trowa  
  
against his chest. His flesh still tingled where the nails had scratched him in his nightmare. His  
  
melody was playing a tired piano's notes. He closed his eyes hoping to stay in this peaceful  
  
dream forever.  
  
-------  
  
A harsh voice disturbed his sleep and he half listened, "Commander, he tried to kill  
  
himself again when a soldier was trying to restrain him."  
  
"Will he live?" said a deeper voice.  
  
"Yes, but he will have to stay in the psyc ward for an indefinite period of time," the first  
  
voice replied.  
  
Quatre drifted off to sleep slightly noticing the bandages on his neck. 


	2. A Stone Choked With Weeds

Author Note: The mood is nicer so don't fret. Oh and Gundam Wing is in no way mine  
  
nor will it ever be unfortunately but you know that already. Sequel to Melody.   
  
A Stone Choked With Weeds  
  
By Cerise Rant  
  
Puffy white clouds like marshmallows about to burst drifted across the china blue  
  
sky. Spring green trees swayed silently in a cool breeze as the warm sun shimmered on  
  
the field of yellow grass making it appear golden. A lone mocking bird stood perched on  
  
a bare branch singing its song of challenge over a trickling stream than ran through the  
  
field into the trees. Perpendicular to the shallow stream a low stone wall had been built.  
  
Its stones were moss covered and it turned into a short arch over the stream. There it  
  
was mostly smothered in thick purple vines with white flowers.  
  
Staring down into the sparkling waters, Quatre sat perched on the arch dangling  
  
his bare feet. His tan trousers were rolled up and still wet from wading. His white shirt  
  
was unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled up showing his pale chest slightly sunburnt like his  
  
face. His vest and shoes were draped on the wall next to him with a handful of spring  
  
flowers laid on top. Grass had been woven into a small rope to bind the flowers together.  
  
He tilted his head to the side listening to the mocking bird before whistling in  
  
reply which sent the bird into a frenzy of complicated notes. Quatre shook his head and  
  
gave up teasing it. Leaning foreword to stare at the water he watched the small minnows  
  
flash in the sunlight. Pulling a leaf off a nearby vine he dropped it into the water and  
  
smiled as the fish scattered frantically.  
  
Faintly he heard the cooing of a mourning dove and jerked his head up to locate  
  
it. Just as he spotted the small bird further down the wall another dove joined it. Cooing  
  
softly they preened each others feathers. He smiled at their affectionate show before they  
  
flew off startled by a gray fox creeping through the grass toward them.  
  
His smile faded slightly and he abruptly stood up breathing deeply the sweet air.  
  
He felt tired suddenly and yearned to stretch out on the wall to sleep. Shaking his head  
  
he grabbed his stuff and carefully picked up the flowers. He began walking along on top  
  
of the wall humming along with the melody in his head.   
  
Cheerfully his did a little skip and jumped off the wall heading toward the trees.  
  
The tall grass reached to his waist and smelt sweet under the mild sun. He picked a long  
  
blade and began to chew on it as he added more flowers to the small bunch. The walk  
  
through the field was long and by the time he reached the shady trees his arms were  
  
laden with a huge bouquet of mostly white flowers. Despite feeling tired he was smiling  
  
brightly and humming even louder. Occasionally he broke into a love song in Arabic  
  
before quieting to a loud hum again.  
  
He stopped just under the trees and opened a small iron gate barely visible under  
  
overgrown brush. Through the gate lay thicker brush with a skinny trail beaten through it.  
  
He walked on the trail still humming but not as loudly. Continuing till he came upon a  
  
small clearing with a cherry tree planted in the middle, he looked around as if expecting  
  
someone. Next to the tree a tall statue of a white angel stood over a gray stone choked  
  
by thorny weeds. Trowa stepped out from behind the statue and waved to Quatre who  
  
broke into a run trying not to lose any flowers. He stopped breathlessly in front of Trowa  
  
and offered the bouquet. Trowa laughed and pointed to the angel's arms.  
  
Quatre stood on his toes to put the flowers in the angel's embrace before turning  
  
back to Trowa who was sitting casually on the gray stone ignoring the thorns of the  
  
weeds. His normal green turtleneck had been replaced by a sleeveless white shirt. He  
  
wiggled his toes in the grass and grinned as he watched Quatre approach.  
  
"I saw a pair of doves today. Do you remember what you said about doves?"  
  
Quatre asked leaning heavily against Trowa's chest inhaling his scent of myrrh and  
  
sandalwood. He felt Trowa nod as he stroked Quatre's golden hair before continuing,  
  
"You had pointed to two sitting on a fence and said, 'Look, Quatre. There's us in our  
  
next life. Happily murmuring sweet nothing and ignoring the world in general.' I laughed  
  
so hard because I had never heard you talk like that. You pouted about being laughed at  
  
so I bought you the white shirt you're wearing."  
  
Trowa's chest was shaking with silent laughter and he kissed the top of Quatre's  
  
head. A slight breeze ruffled his hair and he looked up at the angel's face. Its face was the  
  
same as his and it was smiling faintly. He looked toward were its eyes were gazing and at  
  
the base of the gray stone was another white statue invisible almost under the weeds.  
  
Without looking closer Trowa knew it was another angel with the face of Quatre curled  
  
around the gray stone.  
  
Quatre sighed and hugged him closer, trying to avoid looking at the statue at his  
  
feet. Burying his face in Trowa's chest he asked, "Why won't you leave this place with  
  
me?"  
  
Trowa's shoulders sagged as he replied, "I earned this rest and so have you." His  
  
voice changed slightly as he whispered, "You will feel better if you sleep some more."  
  
His lip stuck out a little as he said, "I don't want to sleep anymore."  
  
"Come lay down again with me," he continued pulling Quatre on top of him as he  
  
laid down away from the thorns. He slid his hands under Quatre's shirt and pushed it off  
  
his shoulders chuckling at his sunburn. Freckles dotted his shoulders also and Trowa  
  
delicately traced a pattern amongst them as Quatre giggled softly.   
  
Quatre leaned forward and trapped Trowa's lips in a sweet kiss. He felt Trowa's  
  
hands running up and down his back as drowsiness overtook him. Breaking the kiss he  
  
murmured, "You always seem to be putting me to sleep lately."  
  
Hugging him close Trowa hummed in Quatre's ear as he drifted off to sleep.  
  
-------  
  
Faintly Quatre heard the rings to curtains being pushed aside and the slight hum  
  
of the machines around him. He could tell someone stood next to him because he  
  
breathed noisily as he wrote on a clipboard. Someone else walked into the room with  
  
heavy boots and asked, "His status?"  
  
The noisy breather responded after clearing his throat, "Much improved. His  
  
stitches were removed this morning. He has yet to come to fully but talks often in his  
  
sleep. It seems he believes he is talking to Trowa."  
  
"That is not good."  
  
"Has it been decided what to tell him about Trowa?" the noisy breather asked.  
  
"No one is to mention it to him. Is that understood?"  
  
"Yes, Commander." 


	3. A Quiet Moment

Author Note: Gundam Wing is in no way mine nor will it ever be unfortunately but you know  
  
that already. Sequel to a 'Stone Choked With Weeds'.   
  
A Quiet Moment  
  
By Cerise Rant  
  
A pool of yellow light stretched across the dim room illuminating a sparsily decorated  
  
room. The white walls had dulled to a grey yellow, and the white tile was a dark grey. A  
  
small, rickety bookcase with few books, a tattered red couch with a pillow and a frail  
  
blanket, and a desk with a chair was the only funiture. The scatched, wooden desk was  
  
covered only with an old, open book and neat stack of faded paper. Leaning back in a  
  
squeaky chair Quatre chewed on the end of his pen staring at the fluid Aribic sprawling  
  
across the book's pages and wondered about the meaning of the word he was trying to  
  
translate.  
  
His hair was ruffled and some spots were spiked from his hand running through it so  
  
much. The custom made clothes he had on fit him very loosely and were thread bare with  
  
poor patching in several spots. He tossed down his pen and nervously walked away flicking  
  
the rooms light off.  
  
He went past the tiny, rank bathroom into the kitchen trying to tug an upright bang  
  
down. When he flicked on the dim light a flock of roaches fled to the cracks and drawers of  
  
the filthy area. Dirty dishes were piled in the rusty sink and black trash bag was overflowing  
  
with garbage. A rustling noise filled the room as the bugs in the bag scurried because of the  
  
disturbance.  
  
Quater ignored all this and opened the almost empty fridge. Half a loaf of bread and  
  
a stack of single slice cheese inhabited the barren space. Several gallons of milk jugs now  
  
used for water and one was filed with weak tea. This he grabbed and poured into a cloudy  
  
glass.  
  
Flicking off the light as he wandered into the previous room and plopped down on  
  
the couch sending up a cloud of foul dust. He laid his head on the pillow ignoring the  
  
bloodstains and pulled the fraying blanket over himself in the dark. His socked feet stuck out  
  
over the couch's edge but he ignored that and instead concentrated on the noise of someone  
  
at the door. The tarnished knob was turning in unison with a key in the lock. The door  
  
opened with a groan and a tall figure walked in with long bangs covering his face.  
  
Quatre frowned slightly and said, "Go away."  
  
The figure stopped a few feet away and tilted its head questioningly to one side.  
  
Pressing his face into the pillow, Quatre mummured, "You're not welcome anymore."  
  
It approached the couch and kneeled next to him putting a hand out to touch him.  
  
"Don't you dare touch me!" Quatre hissed pressing himself deeper into the couch.  
  
Pulling its hand back slowly it watched him silently before spotting the leg to a  
  
teddybear sticking out from under the couch. It pulled the bear out and placed it next to  
  
Quatre who flinched.  
  
"...go away... the dead are not to come here..." he whimpered refusing to take the  
  
bear. He felt the bear fall from the couch and could sense the figure sighing in frustration. "...  
  
just rest in peace..."  
  
The figure stood up and strood out the door leaving it ajar. Cold night air blew in  
  
disturbing the stale air of the apartment.  
  
Quatre leaned his head over the bed's edge and stared at the bear on the floor. He  
  
got off the couch and turned the light on after shutting the door.  
  
Sitting down at the desk again he pulled a worn journal out and began to write. Page  
  
after page he filled with almost uneligable writing that often did not follw the pages lines.  
  
Random doodles began to cover the border of many paragraphs as his writing pace slowed.  
  
-------------------------  
  
Suddenly a door was opened behind Quatre and a bright, white light flooded the  
  
room following the sound of a light-switch being flicked. The noise of soft shoes sounded  
  
behind Quatre but he didn't turn from writing on the mental ward's wall.  
  
A gentle voice calmly asked, "Quatre are you okay?"  
  
No answer.  
  
"Do you need something to help you sleep?" the person continued.  
  
Still no answer.  
  
The person saw the bear on the floor and picked it up. Placing it on the bed, he  
  
asked, "Why did you let it fall? You are always holding the bear, Quatre. Quatre, look at  
  
me."  
  
With an abrupt aggressive movement, Quatre smacked the bear off the bed sending  
  
it flying into the person's feet.  
  
"Now Quatre, why did you do that?" he said picking it up and putting it on the chair  
  
next to the door. "I thought it was special to you."  
  
Quatre looked up. His bloodshot eyes were blankly staring in the person's general  
  
direction but were not focusing on anything. He whipered in a raspy voice, "He lied to me,  
  
you know."  
  
Raising an eyebrow he asked Quatre, "What did he lie about, Quatre?"  
  
"Dying."  
  
"What do you mean by dying?"  
  
"Trowa's dead. You don't have to tell me. I know."  
  
"Why do you think he is dead?"  
  
Quatre focused his eyes on the person who shifted uncomfortably under the livid  
  
stare. He hissed, "Do you know otherwise?"  
  
The person did not reply right away, "It is good you are on speaking terms with me.  
  
Do you remember my name? I have been you doctor since you awoke two months ago."  
  
"Patient Quatre is currently not in this moment. You can leave a message after the  
  
beep. BEEP!" Quatre said in a polite, flat tone with his eyes staring blankly off and he smiled  
  
crookedly.  
  
The doctor started and blinked before sitting back pulling a note pad out of his  
  
pocket to quickly jolt something in it.  
  
Quatre narrowed his eyes and watched closely as the doctor wrote. He leaned back  
  
against the wall with a sigh that was half a growl and said, "You people disgust me. Can't  
  
wait till you leave the room to write down my every movement, can you? A wall is a better  
  
conversationalist. It doesn't criticize. Leave." He turned his head away and stared at the wall  
  
covered in scribbles and drawings that overlapped.  
  
The doctor stood up and stared at Quatre a moment before leaving the room.  
  
At the sound of it closing, he looked at the bear in the chair and whispered to himself,  
  
"He is alive then?"  
  
Picking the pen off the pillow Quatre began to scratch out certain words throughout  
  
the wall's writings. Eventually every word of end, dead, lie and death was blocked out.  
  
He laid down an smiled slightly before thinking outloud, "If I pretend to be okay they  
  
might let me see him. That would be nice." 


	4. As I Walk

Author Note: Gundam Wing is in no way mine nor will it ever be unfortunately but you  
  
know that already. I know 'Stuffed Animal' collection is said to be the sequel to a 'A Quiet Moment' but it is still in writing and this was more of on my mind.  
  
As I walk  
  
By Cerise Rant  
  
  
  
~~Hello~~  
  
Running a hand along the wall till he hits the light switch, Trowa stares around and finally spots Quatre. In the far corner he was curled into a limp ball on the dusty floor.  
  
~~there is no reply~~  
  
~~I left this you see~~  
  
Trowa quickly walks toward him fear etched into his face. He nervously nibbled his lip as he knelt down.  
  
~~nothing here was worth staying for~~  
  
~~ when I am around you~~  
  
He grasped the still pilots shoulder, freezing as he felt the stiffness. To his eyes the room seemed to withdraw leaving only the view of his lifeless love curled there before him.  
  
~~some moments of imagined happiness~~  
  
~~so frail, so broken, as I walk~~  
  
Placing his ear over the unmoving chest, he gave a silent prayer to hear what he hoped for. Something seemed to shatter slowly as he waited longer and longer.  
  
~~bare on the shards~~  
  
At first it was just one tear falling to leave its dark mark on the pale shirt before the rest came. He screwed his eyes tight and almost chocked as a sob racked him.  
  
~~what do you see I don't~~  
  
~~I left this you see~~  
  
Pulling the lifeless figure to him, he buried his face in Quatre's neck sobbing harder. The sound echoing weakly through the bare room.  
  
~~nothing here is worth feeling for~~  
  
~~when I am around you~~  
  
Trowa's sobbing worsened when he realized how light his pale lover felt in his arms. Life weighed so heavily on his Quatre's body and now more than ever he felt how light he was without the burden of everything.  
  
~~spreading numbness from memories~~  
  
~~so few, so thick, as I walk~~  
  
At the door silently stood Quatre, watching as a grieving Trowa rocked his body back and forth. His boyish face was blank except for narrowed eyes.  
  
~~bare on the shards~~  
  
His blue lips twitched as he continued to look on. In his blue eyes a void of darkness swirled with shards of red down into dying depths. Only in spirit did he now stand as he watched.   
  
~~I don't think the same~~  
  
~~no anymore~~  
  
His disbelief leaving him stranded in this barren realm with only the repeated scene of his Trowa fining his corpse. A constant torment and relief. He can see his love, yes, but only in this agony as his memories fade and the darkness moves in.  
  
~~A yearning to say hold me~~  
  
~~fills my mind~~  
  
Only the memory of his own lack of feeling with Trowa that last night together before his death. Together they had lain entwined so sweetly without a worry till his mind once again fell.   
  
~~But I know too well~~  
  
~~ I feel nothing in your embrace~~  
  
Always falling the wrong direction that the moment needs. Desire turned to horror before their love was over. He felt nothing of what he should of felt. No happiness, or that comforting feeling of home. Quatre's spirit slumped against the door post and put his face in his trembling hands. What had he done?  
  
~~I left this you see~~  
  
Shaking his head sharply he strode toward the kneeling Trowa and his corpse. He swung his arm at him and he vanished leaving only Quatre's body. What was there to stay for but the chains of misery? That was worth breaking away from even at the cost of his lover.  
  
~~nothing is worth remembering for~~  
  
~~when I walked away from you~~  
  
His corpse faded also as the bare room turned to cool desert. A dry breeze ruffled his hair as he looked up to stare at the numerous stars. Little pale lights that sparkled in unison with the new flickers swirling about Quatre's body.   
  
~~some feeling of freedom was won~~  
  
~~so small, so light, as I walk~~  
  
He raised a ghostly hand and stared at the welcome stars as their light mingled with his own.  
  
~~bare on the sands...~~  
  
His eyelids grew heavy as he continued to stare, hoping to see only those stars when his spirit awoke again and not the bare room.  
  
~~...in my own white lie...~~  
  
  
  
A tear slide down his cheek as his fear encroached..  
  
-------------------------------------------  
  
Quatre's arm flinched as the needle was inserted. Steadily his half consciousness began to slip away as he tried to stir and hear what was said.  
  
"Attacked him. He seemed to have improved so much. Keep him sedated till tomorrow. I need to evaluate him again...," her voice became a mummer as the drugs took hold. He could no longer feel the restraints on his arms and legs.  
  
~..fooled them so well but not again, they have caught on, stupid acting so soon stupid but they don't know what he did..argh the damn night that evil fool will pay for it, this pain, this imprisonment...the drugs eat away at me, too groggy where is reality in this realm, where is nightmares that try to hide in th guise of dreams.. Where is myself?~ 


	5. Stuffed Animal Collection

Author Note: Gundam Wing is in no way mine nor will it ever be unfortunately but you  
  
know that already. Sequel to a 'As I Walk'.  
  
Stuffed Animal Collection  
  
By Cerise Rant  
  
Leaning over the railing he watched his cold shadow grow longer and deeper as the  
  
puffs of stuffing drifted away. White against black and gold of the fall scene.  
  
The gutted bear laid at his feet. Arms spread and legs shredded. Only the head remained  
  
intact. Red eyes against pale tan fur. An unsmiling mouth.  
  
Quatre dropped the rusty scissors down onto the cement side walk below and grinned  
  
as the smashed apart. He knew the rust had weakened them enough. the scissors were not  
  
good for anything else. Too dull to seriously use to cut. Too bulky to hide from their prying  
  
eyes.  
  
Reaching down he grasped the bear and ripped the head from the remains of the body.  
  
He clutched the head too his chest as he tossed the rest down below.  
  
He wished there was water below instead of a grassy yard. The stuffing would of looked  
  
better floating and sinking into its welcome depths.  
  
He leaned against the railing again and continued to watch the fluffs move across the  
  
yard. He yawned and thought of looking for something else to do but when he was about to  
  
push away the railing gave away. His eyes widened as he fell toward the cement.   
  
He was still watching the fluffs as the air whooshed past him and tightened his grip on the  
  
bear's head. the was no sudden spasm of pain of bone crunching sounds when he hit just a  
  
blankness. An empty blank.  
  
-------  
  
Thick air filled his nostrils as he opened his eyes to an oppressive blackness. Pulling away he realized his face was buried against a rough fur like that of a fake animal. His hands sunk in it as he pushed himself away. As he finally was able to raise his face out of the long fur he felt whatever he was on shift and move under him.  
  
Stifling a yelp he held still as the thing continued to move and then two furry paws grasped him lifting him up. It raised him till he was level with the glittery eyes of a huge teddy bear. The stale reek of old stuffing filled the air as it snorted out its dried leather nose and narrowed its deep eyes at him.   
  
Abruptly it flung him aside and he hit the thick carpeted floor only to roll into another disgruntled bear who nudged Quatre aside with its leg.  
  
A musty darkness was suddenly pressed against his face as he heard a muffled voice whisper, "What is it, lil one, that brings you here? Here of all places. Odd lil one you are indeed."   
  
Groggily he pulled at what was on his face and felt a thick fur covered body. Fake fur that squirmed though at his touch making him flinch. Trying to suppress the urge to shout he pulled at it again but it wouldn't budge.  
  
"Hold still. Lil one must flee before they see." The frantic voice continued, "Flee before they smell you." It hisses. "Smell lil one with those dried leather noses. They know not what they've tossed aside. The blind one tried but thought you be me. His nose will tell him different when he slow thinking starts."  
  
Holding still he tried to figure out what sort of creature kept him pinned, lifting a tentative hand he felt the stylized shape of a rabbit. It flinched at his touch but didn't pull away.  
  
His head was starting to spin as he tried to remember what brought him here. An image of a headless bear being gutted my his hands flashed across him mind.  
  
The rabbit stiffened and pressed harder against him before whisoering with an edge of fear creeping in, "You have killed on of them. Killed one. Hush those thoughts. They will feel its pain. Oh you lil fool you be. So stupid you are."  
  
He pushed it off and got on his knees to stare at the rabbit. It sat on its hind legs quivering as it stared at him with large brown eyes. Its white fur was dirty and matted like its been played with too much by a little kid in the backyard.  
  
His dizziness worsened with this movement and everything became blurry. He sat trying to clear his vison but it didn't work. Everything remained a colorful blur.   
  
"What is here?" he asked staring at the white smudge he believed to be the rabbit.  
  
"Me not know. Tossed here I was long ago. Forgotten." The white smudge got smaller as him assumed it was curling in a ball but suddenly it straightened itself saying, "You must come with me now. Trust me. I'll keep you safe."  
  
Quatre flinched away at those words that sounded so familiar. They did not ring a bell. They tore at his gut and froze his chest. His ears were filled with the sound of his heartbeat as he tried to free himself from the grip of the words.  
  
"Stuffed animal not hurt you never will me do so. The bears might. They will. You killed one." the rabbit stammered moving closer to him.  
  
"Cannot kill what was never alive.." Quatre gasped as the pain faded slightly.  
  
"You are not fair. Kill what is given out of love. Toss it aside. Call the bears I will. Murder needs only company of his kind." It scampered away loudly shrieking in a terror filled voice.  
  
The shrieking stabbed at his ears and he grabbed his head falling onto his back. Laying there trying to press out the pain he felt many heavy footsteps nearing him quickly. He couldn't move as the pain worsened.  
  
He felt a massive foot carefully get placed on his chest. At first it didn't press against him, instead the massive creature asked him a weighed question, "Why do you harbor such violence?"  
  
His blue eyes widened as his hands fell limp to his sides. His mind just went blank. He didn't want to remember. He wanted to cling to that blankness and haze that often fogs his mind.  
  
The foot pressed against his chest slightly, "Answer me! You will not ignore me"  
  
Quatre's vison focused slightly and he recognized the face of the demolished teddy bear that had caused him to be here. The gift he should of never of accepted. To accept a gift meant you had to give in return. Quatre could not afford what he wanted in return and now everything was askew.  
  
The pressure of the foot increased as his silence continued. He didn't want to think any further but all those words were still there.. 'murderer'..'trust me'..'I'll keep you safe'..'You will not ignore me.' All words that he had said to him before the pain.  
  
He was holding his breath even as the foot pressed down as he tried not to remember. Abruptly the foot was gone and he gasped out, "..you feel the pain....the pain and then ask that again.."  
  
The familiar face of the bear he had destroyed peered close to his own and whispered, "Remember I was there and have not left since."  
  
Quatre stared at the red depths of those eyes and remembered the blood on the sheets and the red tinted water swirling down the drain... those eyes were there too. He had carried the bear with him and never realized.   
  
He tried to sit up but everything remained limp. He continued to stare at those eyes as he slipped into them. A deep redness swirling away with no water to thin its darkness this time as the pain returned encasing his chest and his head began to throb. He screws up his face as a wave of pain racked him. A wave of red tinted blackness overwhelmed him.   
  
---------  
  
The beeping of several monitors is the first thing he hears as he came to. His chest felt heavy and stiff. Painfully he tilted his head only to see the bear.  
  
Unblinking he stares as its eyes glitter red under the flickering light. Nasty, little eyes he  
  
wants to tear out and smash. See the pieces scatter across the spotless floor.   
  
His hands twitch and he fights to keep his thoughts from showing on his face. Must play  
  
sane. Must play sane... so hard to do. So many drugs coursing through unsteady veins.  
  
An angry voice came into earshot and he recognized the doctor's accent, "How the hell did he get out of his locked cell onto the roof in the first place? Where was sercurity?"  
  
An unsure male voice answered her, "They were knocked unconscious and the locks are fried. He warned you that it would require tighter security to hold him."  
  
"How bad is his condition?"  
  
"Several fully fractured ribs and a mild concussion. His medication had to be stopped to avoid complications with the morphine."  
  
"So you will take responsibility if he has another psychotic episode?"  
  
"Yes, Dr. Narato."  
  
Quatre toned them out as he tried to move his arm to knock the bear away only to find it strapped down. He stared at it for awhile longer before calling out in a weary voice the cracked slightly, "...nurse..." No answer so he said it a little louder, "Nurse.."  
  
Instead of the nurse pulling aside the curtain it was the tightlipped head doctor with a grim face male doctor who asked, "What is it Quatre?"  
  
He bite his tongue and turned away from there watching gaze looking for something to fix his mind on instead of the cursed bear and them. The room was bare with no windows or wall hangings. Turning back he replied calmly, "Why is the bear here?"  
  
"A guard below said you jumped for it. That you even broke the guard rail to do so," replied Dr. Narato looking over a clipboard.  
  
"No... just leaned a little too much to see my shadow that's all," he muttered watching her expression. "Can you put it away somewhere for now?"  
  
"Quatre, why does it bother you?" she asks lowering her clipboard to her side.  
  
He looked at her and sighed, "Yes, the bear bothers me. Its from him for pets sake. A nasty memento of what he did."  
  
"Don't you mean what you did?" the male doctor stated and she gave him a stern look before asking, "Is there anything else you want to talk about?"  
  
His attention was turned inward as he tried to understand what he had meant when he said what he had done. What had he done?  
  
-------------------------  
  
Author note: can we say in-co-her-ent!!! geesh, my head spins and I have to sleep in a bed full of these stuffed animals not to mention the hours put into this cause I keep losing the chapter from moving computer to computer and format to format. Well I think this isn't going to feel so much like a PWP fanfic now. 


	6. Bland Lake

Author Note: Gundam Wing is in no way mine nor will it ever be unfortunately but you know that already. Sequel to a 'Stuffed Animal Collection'. 

Bland Lake By Cerise Rant

Writing on the walls. Transcribed from Arabic by Dr Lancer while patient was in therapy:

------------

There's something odd about my view of you like looking at the sky when I'm underwater. I see bits and pieces of you. You are perfect to me in you incompleteness like there is the spot I fit into in this world. So happy was I lounging there in you arms smiling my goofy grin and humming along in my head to whatever you say. A certain calmness seeped its way into my frantic thoughts dislodging my gas pedal for life. Moving fast to do anything felt so wrong with you in your laid back lifestyle that I was the ocean tamed by calm storm with the fierce middle. All smooth edges till I slide deeper into knowing you and felt the sharpness of your thoughts. And just like the storms I compare you to, you leave a devastated calmness in your wake. No more roaring with the savage and hungry winds of your storm as my waves in life resemble a bland lake. A sign of relief from you as you hear the smile in my voice I do for you. That smile will be there as you can't see my face. Or feel the scratches my nails had left in my arms. Or feel my nails now where there should be some. I chew them off. Right down to the quick until they sting and make my fingers twitch with the pain. Surfacing from sleep I still want to roll over to snuggle to you side but there's only a mound of stuffed animals in the space you left. There empty eyes and fake smiles make my eyes glaze over as I slip back to sleep to forget.

-----------

Clipboard notes: 9/15 16:00 Patient assaulted intern at dinner. Minor injury. Currently sedated. He believes he is being poisoned and refuses to eat still. 3 days since last food intake. Tube feeding might be required.   
9/16 11:00 Attempted suicide in shower. Intentionally inhaled water into lungs. Becoming increasingly hysterical. Increased medication and supervision.   
9/25 14:00 Assaulted Mr. Maxwell. No injury sustained. Patient continued to rant well after Maxwell's visit. Believes Maxwell is Trowa. Same behavior toward Yui and Wufei.


	7. A Violent Phase

Author Note: Gundam Wing is in no way mine nor will it ever be unfortunately but you know that already. Sequel to a 'Bland Lake.'  
This chapter too the loooongest to write eh a little over a year I guess. I worked on it while doing all the other chapters.' Umm yeah this one I believe one can call disturbing as the first chapter.

A Violent Phase  
By Cerise Rant

A random thump of the heart echoes through the chest, hitting the gut hard as another thought passes through the cluttered head. A sudden clear moment as a breath is taken but upon exhaling forehead pounds with pain

A shaking hand thrown out clutching at the air. Fingers enclose soft fur, a teddy bear, and drag it into a smothering embrace. Twine fingers in its fur further and sniff its dusky scent.Thoughts fade and sleep approaches unwavering in its quiet advance. Memories resurface,distorted and dim, leaving ripples in the calm.

An argument and a unfair reply. Subject dropped uneasily only to escalate unchecked for too long. Another argument this time words said and actions taken desperately regretted later. A twisting void left gnawing at what is left when the other is gone. Gone somewhere nothing can follow but death.

A shaky growl and throw unwilling body out of bed to escape to some place where the thoughts cannot follow. Toss on rumpled clothes long past needing a wash instead should be thrown out would be a better alternative. Kick aside random stuff on floor. Disconnected phone, smashed alarm clock, moldy take-out containers, and other clear items of neglect bounce away after a frustrated swipe of hand in search of shoes and hopefully a pair of socks.

Giving up on the fruitless search, he trudged to the dinky bathroom and tried to turn on the light. The bulb flickered and went out. Hissing a string of profanities he pulled the blinds open to let in late afternoon light. A bright cherry golden sun greeted his ringed eyes and he flinched. Pressing his palms against his eyes he told himself he was not going to go back to bed yet. Not yet there was something to do. Somewhere to go.

He turned the squeaky knob to the sink and waited for the murky water to turn clear before washing his face. He stared at his hand as he passed it through the water. There was bloodstains on it again.

Quatre looked into the mirror and saw blood streaks on his cheeks lined with white where his tears had washed it away. More blood than usual though. There were no cuts visible aside from the huge bruise across his jaw on one side so he tried to pull his shirt off and hissed in pain. Blood had congealed sticking the shirt firmly to long marks that covered his torso.

Angrily pulling his other clothes off he climbed into the shower and turned the hot water on full blast. He stood there letting the water loosen the blood until he was finally able to pull his shirt off. He continued to stand there and try to remember what had happened.

Nothing came to mind. Nothing at all. He couldn't remember yesterday or much of the day before that. Everything was a foggy mess of gray. Limply he slide down the shower wall and stared at the red tinted water going down the drain. There has to be something wrong. There's too much blood to have come from those wounds. Also, its not right not remembering even the general idea of what had happened.

Trying not to dig his nails into his palms he sat forward to get up only to notice that his body was a patchwork of huge bruises and small cuts. Very visible were deep bruises at the bend of his arm. Needle marks dotted the deep purple spots.

The longer he stared at his arms he noticed bruises caused by fingers. Long, large fingers hand left their distinct mark on his wrists and upper arms.

-

A scream tries to rip itself from his cracked lips but only a hiss of air escaped to be drowned out by the monitors' humming. He stains painfully against the restraints but the medications drain what strength he could have had. Eyelids flicker but do not open as he continues to struggle awake. It is a losing battle as the iv continues its steady indifferent dripping of sedatives.

His movements slow as the torturous sleep reclaims him to his memories.

-

A horror has crept into his head as he continued to stare down the drain at the red water. A scream building in his throat….

-

And what was it he saw looking at me there curled in the corner pressed so close yet so far from him with my eyes wide with the white streaks through the dark so clear.

The whole room was covered in that darkness now splattered and smeared. Spots touched everything, the soft yellow sheets and the white comforter.

He looked so sad standing there I know I felt the same but differently, he wasn't clinging to what lay limp in my arms. Someone special gone now. My fault. The limp man just a corpse, no more than that. All my fault.

What I thought I had was just a glimmer of the real shadow I had lain with all those nights. What was it that had caused the crumbling and had shred what was there? I relax somewhat feeling the blood continue to drip.

He stepped closer and I did nothing with no thoughts but of the darkness spreading on the floor around me. I just wanted it all to go back to how it once was. Somewhere in all this darkness I will find the reason even if I lose what is left of myself in doing so. Was it my weakness? My overall frailty that manifested this horror I now drown in?

He is approaching with those lit eyes and dark hands, shaking as he steps in the spreading pool of darkness. The squelch of his shoes in the darkness startles him. His eyes stare down at his feet before focusing.

Suddenly as if someone had shot him in the head he drops before me. I don't hear it. I don't hear anything as I watch the darkness drip from his mouth too. I am confused but an encroaching blackness in my vision brings promises of oblivion. I want to ignore the two bodies that lay before me. I want to forget it all so much….

-

An alarm sounded before a nurse rushed in. More alarms began to go off as she called out for the doctor to hurry.

Flat-line. Then a beat and another but the brain functions erratic. No breathing still as life-support is turned on.

Staff hectic as doctor curses about the too high medication levels.

-

The water stopped running so red as he slumped over onto his side. He didn't want to think. Only to breathe but his chest was frozen. The scream was there. Lodged between him and the precious air he desired but it could not escape.

-

I painfully pried my eyes open, there was something sticky and thick on my face. It was dark against my pale skin in the thin light of the street lamp outside the shattered window. Shards of glass lay strewn on me and the cold floor. Peering around I saw the dim room was in disarray and the floor was smeared with the same darkness that splattered me. Trying to sit up more my back screamed in pain leaving me gasping again on the floor. Gritting my teeth I pushed my self up through the thick haze of pain.

A tall shadow came storming toward me and "..wh..what…" was all I could utter before a foot smashed into my side.

A familiar voice screeched at me, "How! Could YOU do THAT! To HIM!" before another kick connected with my jaw. I went flying back into a dresser behind me and felt a knob smash into the back of my head.

Everything was slanted and edged by black as I struggled to look at the assailant but he was moving toward me again. There was nothing I could do as I was cringing before the blackness claimed my vision. I could hear in that black oblivion the sickening sound of flesh pounding flesh.


End file.
